A Deathclaw and Its Ghoul
by Foedus
Summary: A ghoul named Jeyral finally decides that enough is enough, and that he doesn't want to live cooped up in Underworld any longer.  These are his accounts, written by him, about love, death, and how he befriended a Deathclaw.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: A Very Interesting Companion

Author's Note: Please be aware it is written in the first person, as if the character is writing it of himself. If you don't like this style of writing, please dont' read it.

Begin Entry 001

Some people never really think that they're going to be slaves... or be the companions of Deathclaws... Or get chased down by the entirety of the Pitt.

Or the Enclave.

Or the Brotherhood.

And for what, other than some stupid misunderstanding. What, has this become Pre-War high school or something? I thought we'd be past all this petty behavior, learn from the past, don't repeat the same mistakes, blah, blah blah. Yeah. Apparently not. But hell, what do I know right? I'm just a drooling, rotting, smelly sack of radioactive flesh.

And I thought being a Ghoul was bad enough. Of course, that only added to my problems. Go fuckin' figure. My name is Jeyral, Ghoul Mercenary and lone wanderer of the Capital Wasteland. I had left the Underworld a long time ago, after things there just became a wallowing cesspool of self pity. I was never one to sit there wailing about the fact the last two hundred years were miserable, and 'back in the old days', I was someone who really didn't make a fuckin' difference in the world either way. Nah, I'm not one for self pity, never really was. I tend to think that's one of my surviving good qualities. Of course, when Gob left, there was a lot of talk between the others about setting foot outside, but no one would grab what was left of their balls and do it.

Of course... I was the dumbfuck that decided to do just that. Maybe I thought I was going to be just like that famed companion of Herbert "Daring" Dashwood, that Argyle guy. Maybe, for just one second, I thought that 'hey, this show is out, people are listening. Perhaps they're thinking better about ghouls! Perhaps...'

Yeah what a load of shit that got me in.

I guess the only thing I can do is tell the real story. On this shitty little monitor, in the hopes that SOMEONE would read it and help me clear my name...

So here it is. Enjoy, or whatever... hell, maybe it will become the next radio series. At least I'd be famous right?

It all started the moment I opened up the door to the Underworld, and squinted my eyes against the harsh Wasteland sun. I could hear the distant grunting of Super Mutants, the ones that must have holed themselves up in what was the old capital building. The air was dead and unbearably dry, like I was trying to shove a jar full of razorblades down my throat. It tasted like it too, the faint tang similar to licking a penny. Willow was still on patrol, cancer stick lit up, hanging from the corner of those pretty chapped lips, with her back against the worn brick wall. I had to admit, for a Ghoul, she was a pretty damn good looker, but I guess that was in the eyes of the beholder. I tried to avoid her, skirting off to the side like some dog probably looking like a damned fool, or a retarded mirelurk. Regardless of my efforts, the vixen saw me and began stalker her way towards me scruffing me on the back of the neck so hard I half expected the remaining flesh to slide off.

"Where in the fuck do you think you're going, Jey?" Her raspy voice lashed out, and I winced, straightening up and scratching my head. I tried to slip to the side and out of the woman's grip, but to no avail. The woman's grip was as brutal as a super mutant's, and I really, really didn't want to lose any more skin than I already had.

"Sorry..." It was the only thing I could think of as a reply. I shifted uneasily on my feet, though my shoulders sagged as she finally let go of my neck, and moved them sternly to her hips. Those white eyes narrowed and stared into mine for a good long moment, before she snorted through that rotting nose.

"Where do you think you're going without a gun?"

Well that was a good question. I hadn't even thought of any sort of protection. I just packed up what chems and stimpacks I had, and made to take off. The stupid look on my face must have answered her question, because she grabbed my shoulder and moved me off to the wall. I was cornered like a mole rat in an instant, and I was staring at her with widened eyes. That disgruntled expression didn't leave her face either, and I shrunk into myself, hands moving up to protect my face.

"I... was going away..." I muttered finally, with a tone that probably made me sound like a babbling torture victim. I swallowed, though I must have looked like a sad pup, because her grip loosened just a bit. It was true though. I couldn't admit that I didn't feel right in a haven for Ghouls. I couldn't admit to her that I wanted something more. After all, there was only a world filled with only hate and disdain for our kind. However, she didn't say anything insulting, which surprised the hell out of me. Usually, she had something snide to say, even if it was in jest.

"Lucky you kid... But you ain't gonna survive on just a stimpack and Jet..." She moved her hand to the side, pulling away that trench coat to reveal a Pistol. It looked old and beat up, but when she handed it to me, I couldn't be more thankful. A hand dug into her pockets to dump a few clips into my outstretched hands. "Take that, it won't go slaying super mutants, but at least you'll keep Talon off your back. Just be careful, and be sure to get home in one piece. I wanna hear all about it alright?"

"Aye ma'am, but you don't have to worry about me... don't y'need this though? I mean, all alone out here..." I muttered, doe eyed at the fact I was actually holding a weapon.

"Oh I'll worry about you alright... you almost went out there without a gun," she said with a smack to my cheeks and a step back. I took the opening and sidestepped from the wall as fast as I could, half expecting a smack to the back of the head at any given moment. I shoved the remaining clips in my hand, and one in the weapon, before grinning sheepishly. We talked for a bit, but it was only some simple instructions, tips and et cetera... My mind was too occupied with the thought of actually leaving. However, after a few minutes, I found myself walking down the road, with nothing but my footsteps ringing in my ears.

It was quiet...

Unsettling and quiet. No wonder there were stories about people going mad. The only thing that I could hear through that silence was the faint echo of what sounded like the Enclave station. It grew louder, and louder, until I saw what looked like a silver ball bobbing through the air towards me. It seemed as if it were going to pass without incident... and it did!

For about five seconds.

I heard the zap of a laser, and my arm immediately began to burn, and stink like singed flesh. I yowled despite me not really feeling much, and twisted around to see its targetting sensors trained right at my head. The laser weapon fired again, and I rolled to the side, pulling out the pistol and holding it up shakily. I remembered only a little of what I read in weapons magazines. Look down the sight and all that jazz, but when I pulled the trigger, nothing happened. It wouldn't even budge.

"Fuck!" I fumbled around with the gun for a second, fast-stepping backwards until I ran right into a wall with a thud and a grunt of pain and surprise. Lasers were rocketing all around me, and it was then, through the flashing of red light, that I saw the safety switch. Cursing again in my stupidity, flicked it and brought the gun up, closed one eye, and began to pull the trigger. The recoil was horrible, and through the five shots, I thought my hand was going to fall off. Only two of them hit, but I was damn proud I even fired the damn thing, let alone hit something. It would jerk in the air, but bounce right back into action, and the only thing that I could think of doing was running.

And you can bet your damn brahmin that's what I fucking did. Oh yes, that must have looked fucking hysterical. A guy running across the wasteland screaming like a little girl over a floating silver eyeball that shot laser beams.

Laugh it fucking up.

Of course, in my blind terror, I turned street after street, chest heaving as I sprinted across DC like a marathon runner. When I was sure that I lost the thing, I looked back and pulled myself around a corner into an alleyway, chest heaving and breath scraping my throat as I tried to calm myself down. Sure enough, I did. There was no sound or sign of the Enclave Eyebot anywhere. And believe me, did I puff up my chest proudly like I just brought civilization back to the world.

Until I noticed the eggs of course. There were only two in a bunch, but they were laid in the remains of what looked like a few super mutants. They had an iridescent sheen to them as well, and the shells were leathery and translucent. They looked as if they were about to burst too, the little lizard things inside gently squirming and twitching underneath their protective cover. To tell you the truth, I was absolutely enthralled, wide eyed at the prospect that life could still be born in some shithole like this.

Crouching low to examine them closer, I picked one up feeling the weight on the egg, before I brushed what looked like a thin layer of slime away, hoping to see clearer what was , it was definitely a lizard, large eyes closed, and body curled up around a tail, two studded horns poking out from its forehead. Tiny little claws were fisted, and I couldn't help but find it was kind of cute.

What possessed me to do the next thing, I have no idea.

In a quick movement, I had pulled that worn backpack from my shoulders and began to pull the supplies out, moving and organizing until the egg had a proper place to rest. Picking one of them up, I examined it a bit closer, before pushing it gently into the backpack. Closing the flaps and swinging it around my shoulders, I proudly stood myself up with a grin and was about to leave until I heard a growl off from the alleyway.

That sound...

I only heard once in my life, and why the fuck I didn't recognize what was in the eggs before, was beyond me. If my face could have fucking paled, it would have, and right away my hands began to shake.

"Oh you have to be fucking kidding me. No. No my luck isn't this bad... I deny this..." I was muttering to myself, immediately beginning to backpedal. Just as the snout of one rounded the corner I had swung myself upwards, and dropped into a dumpster, shaking in terror. Even while I was sitting there, I couldn't figure out whether the smell was from my hiding spot, or the fact that I had just shat myself.

Slow, ominous, heavy foot falls grew louder outside and one of them must have gotten so close, because I could hear it breathing, that I had sucked in a deep breath and held it. I heard a grunt, and what sounded like a rumbling growl once more, before those footfalls began to move away until I couldn't hear them anymore.

My luck was splendid. Not even a half an hour in the Wasteland and I had gotten shot at by the Enclave, and wandered into a Deathclaw nesting ground. Underworld really wasn't looking half bad.

I stayed in that dumpster for what felt like an hour, until I finally got the courage to pull myself up and take a peek. My body felt heavy, aching from the terror and the taut muscles that were spasming and urging me to run like a little bitch. However, I wouldn't run this time. No way. I had to man up some how.

I didn't see any Deathclaws nearby, and I let out a soft sigh of relief. Though, I'll tell you this, that didn't stop me from tip-toeing out of the alley way like a whore running away from a pimp. Oh hell no. I was quiet as the grave, until I was at a safe enough distance to let out a squeak and begin hurtling down the road.

Yep, manly I know.

It was only a few hours into the journey and I was out of DC, that I felt what was similar to a baby kicking inside that bag. I heard a wet tear, and immediately my back suddenly was soaked. Letting out a curse, I wiggled my arms out of the straps and held the bag at arms length in disgust. The fabric was drenched in a thick, amorphous goop, and as I was about to shake it out, a chirrup and a head popped out of the opening. Great, big green eyes stared up at me, pupils as wide as saucers. It didn't have gnashing teeth or anything like that... and it was really rather adorable... The thing let out another purring chirrup, before it began to wiggle around in the bag, tail poking out as it turned itself around, obviously attempting to explore and dig.

I set the bag down and opened it up even wider, and out spilled this baby... lizard... thing. It had black claws, and half of it was still encased in that skin-like membrane. My hands shakily moved forward to free it of that disgusting prison, before it suddenly launched forward, forehead slamming right between my legs and sending me rolling with a yelp and a groan. My hands were cradling an aching sack, but as I turned my head to see where the oh so enthusiastic little thing went, I was nose to nose with the baby Deathclaw. Even as a baby those things were still scary as fuck to look at. But, as I turned my head away, it let out a soft croon, and I felt it begin to knead at my shoulders and neck. Staring at me for a long moment, it opened it's surprisingly large maw, and curled up tight against me

I finally let go of my still aching groin and allowed my arms to wrap around him, cradling him like a baby with my other hand pulling my pack back onto my shoulders. Within minutes, my new addition, was sleeping like a baby, and I was breaking into the basement of an old house. After killing what Radroaches were inside, I laid out an old, decaying blanket for the two of us to sleep on, and began preparations to set up booby traps just in case a wandering band of raiders waltzed in. Gutting and peeling back the flesh of the radroach, I made a plate of food for the little guy, and laid down to attempt to get some sleep.

However, I was too scared of what was outside to even shut my eyes... And when I did, all I could see was Mama Deathclaw chomping down on 200 year old innards.

Damn imagination. They always told me it would get the best of me one day.

End Entry OO1


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Arrival to Megaton

Begin Entry 02

Well, if I didn't survive the night, there wouldn't have been another entry. When I woke up, I decided to name the new pet I had, Rex. It was a cliché name that I had read in a book somewhere. The hero always used that as a name for their dogs or something like that. Of course, hard to imagine why anyone would want a dog. Vicious little fucks they are. I swear I saw a pack of them tear a Brahmin in half once while escaping the Pitt. I was just glad that their attention was on the Brahmin and not turned to me.

Anyway, yeah we woke up. Surprised me too, with all the shit I heard outside. There must have been a caravan travelling out there... All I heard was the screams. Rex stayed sleeping through the entirety of it, creepy little thing. After hearing the screams and the tearing of flesh? Sleep was the last thing on my mind. Surprisingly however, I was wide awake. Perhaps it was the constant flow of adrenaline or something, but I quickly washed out the bag from any of the remaining dried up goo, and placed the STILL sleeping deathclaw inside, covering the flap over loosely before setting off again.

Sure enough, it was a caravan. Merry motherfucking Christmas to me. The Brahmin was torn to fucking shreds. The smell was horrible, and the sight of the people was... definitely not wanting me to think about morning Breakfast. Of course, the smell of blood had Rex writhing and struggling to poke his head out of the bag, and when he saw what was on the menu, he hopped out, and scampered towards the mutated animal with soft, eager crooning. I was too sickened to watch him eat, and turned my head to begin rummaging through the dead caravaner's things.

After scrounging around the dead bodies, and thankfully finding that they weren't stripped to the bones of supplies, I found some clothing that fit me off of a dead Raider. It looked as if they were the ones that had jumped the caravan, and ran into Mama Deathclaw while they were at it. I'll tell you right fucking now, I was damn proud. Got me a good gun too! An assault rifle, hunting rifle... I was starting to feel like a real Wastelander! Rex came back to my feet a bloody mess, and obviously looking as happy as could be, and lovingly clawwed all the way up my leg to mosey right on into the bag.

"You know, I have hands for a reason..." I grumbled, after letting out one hell of a chorus of odd shrieks and wiggles, before finally being rid of the little bastard's claws. Oh he was going to be a fun one. I could feel it. When he settled himself in the bag, I twitched and checked for any missing flesh on his path of destruction. There were a few tears in whatever fucking flesh I had left, but I wasn't falling apart.

We began our trek across DC, and what a fun stroll that was. I had gotten nearly bashed senseless by a gang of super mutants, and before you fucking ask. Yes. I ran like a little bitch. There, you happy? You gettin' your laughs in? Good.

Anyway, the trip out of DC wasn't that bad, compared to my first night on the town. It felt as if already I was beginning to understand the harshness of the Wasteland and what it had to offer. The caravans passed me though. Never gave me the time of day or aknowledged that I existed. Not like I wanted their attention anyway. Hell, people walking right on by was fucking welcome in my book. I didn't want to end up like the jokes in DC. That was the last thing on my to do list. Being a ghoul may have been hard, and disgusting, but it was better than being dead.

No pun intended.

It took us... about a day and a half to reach Megaton... it was this crazy city made completely out of scrap metal. It had a nice dig to it... and at least looked somewhat protecting against the sun. They even had opening doors. I swear it was like one of those fucking castles I read about in the museum's abandoned parts. Of course, Rex was curled up in the bag and out of sight. I didn't want anyone shooting him or anything like that. I'd have been devastated. However, my thoughts were interrupted by a haggard, black-skinned man in a duster and a cowboy hat walking up to me, cigarette at his lips and eyes boring into me like I just crawled out of a hole. Well, he was right about one thing.

"Hey, you... Kid..." I looked up at him, he at me, and I swear to god I thought he was going to kill me. I was terrified, which was why I couldn't move, or responded with a gurgle. "What brings you to Megaton?" I was silent for a good long moment, mouth slack and eyes wide as saucers, before I finally brought up the courage to speak up. Hey, he wasn't a Deathclaw, right?

"Uh... I'm... passing through... I'd... like a place... to stay..." I fought every bit of me to not say smoothskin. It was a force of habit, and I really didn't want to piss off a guy with a gun.

"Passing through, and a place to stay. You ain't Raider shit, are you?" His hand would rise up lazily to motion to my clothing, and I looked down at the ripped khakis and the loose tanktop that I had jacked.

"Ah, no... I took this off a body... ain't usin' it no more so... you know..." Yeah that didn't sound right to say to a guy that was obviously the leader of a town. However, he'd smirk, as if I said something amusing, before crossing his arms, and giving me a less... hateful glare.

"Be careful, ghoul, we only have one of your kind here, but he dun get treated right. You keep your head down. And stay out of trouble. I don't want any fighting." I nodded. It was the only thing that I could do, before I began to walk around the man and down the path to the center of the town. "Oh, and the bomb?"

"Bomb?"

"Yeah, that bomb." His hand pointed down into the middle of the town, where a giant nuclear warhead dug itself quite a cute little hole. "It's safe. Some guy came back a few years ago, defused it. You got nothin' to worry about. And don't mind the Church of Atom. They're just a bunch of crazies with nothin' better to do. Hell, they might worship you. Being a 'son of radiation' or some weird shit like that." I stared at him, and probably looked stupid, because he began to laugh, a loud, and slightly cheerful sounding thing. There wasn't any hate in that voice anymore.

"Right, I'll be sure to remember that." I continued my way down to the center of town, and sure enough, an old man came sloshing out of the green glowing water in a frenzy. Psht, to think these people would be smart not to roll around in a radioactive cesspool.

"Good day to you son of Atom!" He squealed, his... ethereal sounding voice making me want to punch him in the face. He sounded like he was shooting up way too much jet for his own good. "I am the Confessor for the Church of Atom. We always welcome those who received the gift of his eternal glow!" I swear. Oh his voice was just grating on my mind. Eternal Glow? What the fuck was that bullshit? Needless to say, I was confused, but if a bunch of smoothskins wanted to worship ghouls, hell, I was all for it. Rex shifted in my backpack, and I continued staring at the man as if he were an alien, or uglier than me. However it looked at the time.

"Uh... Right... Glow... and stuff." I watched the man shake my hand repeatedly, before letting go and stepping back.

"Come, come! I'll show you to our Gathering Place. The worshipers will be more than happy to meet you!" I swear to god, this guy floated. Either that or he was just that flamboyant. Lavish hand motions must have made him feel important as well, because he seemed to think he was talking to a crowd of brainwashed supporters.

We came up to this church... thing... looked more like a building with a bio-hazard sign on it, and of course, we went in. People were walking around listlessly, or sitting at the pews praying. Hey. More power to them. Any religion that thought Ghouls were friends was alright in my book. Even Rex popped his head out and looked around.

Me and the church guy talked some more. Yeah this is boring, I know, but there wasn't much entertainment other than that washed up old Raider looking creep named Jericho. Confessor was what he called himself. He explained the church of Atom with me, and honestly, I thought the guys were a bunch of kooks. Either way, they gave me food and a place to stay for free, and gave me permission to come back whenever I pleased. It was probably a much better welcome than the common house was going to give me, so yeah, I ate that up for all it was worth. Hey, it was a ghoul-hating world out there. I wasn't about to argue with a little kindness.

But hey, I wasn't the one acting like my blood was replaced with Psycho.

However, news of another ghoul in town lifted my hopes up, and upon getting his location, I left Rex in the care of the Mother, who was more than happy to observe the 'creature of Atom', and I made my way up to Moriarty's Saloon.

Immediately upon LOOKING at the place I felt as if I was going to die. And entering? Oh yeah, this certainly looked like what should have belonged to a Raider Overlord or something. However, the ghoul was on the other side of the counter, and I immediately made my way to a stool. The guy I sat next to gave me a look that could have probably killed me if I was paying attention, but I didn't care.

"What'll it be, smoothskin?" The ghoul asked, voice deadpan and depressing.

"Does my skin look smooth to you, zombie?" My words, and voice, must have surprised him, because the cup he was drying clattered to the ground, and he was scrambling to pick it up.

"Jesus Christ, another ghoul? And you didn't get shot yet?" He asked, eyes widening as his hands locked themselves onto the table. "Holy shit, where did you come from, Underworld? How's Carol?"

Carol? He knew Carol? My mind began listing off the menagerie of folks that Carol had known, and only one finally brought an alarm bell ringing.

"Gob, is that you? Jesus, fuck, what are you doing in this place?" I asked, my own eyes widening this time around as I grinned. "You know your mom has been worried sick about you!" Gob gave me the best smile that he could. "It's Jeyral. We only talked once. But damn, you've been gone a while! Everyone thought you were dead!"

"Nah, I'm just stuck in this shit hole of a town," Gob replied, before setting down a cup and smirking. "What'll it be?"

"Whiskey, and why are you stuck here? You ain't a slave are you?" The lack of an answer was enough of one for me, and I scowled, shaking my head. Slavery, pissed me off more than anything, and here Gob was, licking the shoes of someone who probably thought his shit smelled like fresh air and sunshine. "Damn it... you didn't try to get your freedom or nothin'?"

"Can't. Every time I get caps, it goes right out the door for Moriarty's room and board," he grumbled, pouring me a whiskey and setting it on the bartop in front of me. "I even owe him money and shit for other stuff. Man I just can't get outta here..."

"Got a little boyfriend here, do yeh Gob, and oh lookit here, he smells just like yeh!" A shitty voice with a shitty accent that left a bad taste in my mouth suddenly spiked up, and I looked up to see a gray haired, bastard looking of a man glaring down at me and Gob like we were the excrement of the planet.

"No boss, just another customer," Gob replied, and of course, me and my big mouth did as well.

"What, pissed to see a Zombie ain't lickin' the shit off your boot smoothskin?" I growled, in my best bad-ass voice I could muster, putting a scowl on my face, in what hoped to look like I just got out of grappling with a super mutant one handed the victor. The guy laughed.

"Oh, we got ourselves a live one here," his arms crossed, and the look in his eyes became serpentine. "You best be learnin' who you're talking to boy. You don't want to have a little accident of some sort, now do you. Walking around the Wastes with a missing arm is only going to get you in trouble?"

Oh now I was pissed, this smoothskin was barking up the wrong Ghoul's tree.

"Lemme guess, you're the guy named Moriarty."

"And it has a brain ladies and gentlemen!" The man yelled, and the small, gruff crowd at the bar laughed. All eyes were on me, and Gob was staring at me with a mix of horror and fascination on his face.

I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I stood up, stared the man straight in the eyes.

And splashed my whiskey right in his face.

What happened next, was probably a fight worthy enough to go down into history.

Too bad I think I hear Raiders outside.

end Entry 02


End file.
